


Dance

by archangelsky



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-19 16:01:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2394422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archangelsky/pseuds/archangelsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shiera Seastar is sixteen years old, unwed and never to wed (but hardly a virgin), and she intends to see Aegor suffer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance

“Dance with me,” she orders her brother. Not the handsome brother, the one with pretty eyes, a chiseled face, and hair the color of the night, but the strange looking one with the dark birthmark on white who always stands in the shadow as if light would melt his skin.

Shiera has decided to fuck decorum through and through: the man is obligated to ask the woman to dance. And, once a woman has declined one dance with one man, she cannot dance with another for fear of upsetting the first man. Earlier in the evening, Aegor had asked her for a dance and she denied him. Shiera, much to three of her brothers’ chagrin, danced with every handsome young lordling attending the wedding of Maekar and the Velaryon girl he decided to marry.

Shiera Seastar is sixteen years old, unwed and never to wed but hardly a virgin, and she intends to see Aegor suffer.

“My lady?” Brynden squeaks and Shiera has to hide a smile. Brynden’s desire to fuck her has been obvious for at least a year but she has enjoyed the waiting, flaunting their relationship right in front of Aegor and sweetly refusing to answer him when he demanded details (there were none, not yet). Aegor hardly tolerated it when she consulted Brynden on books and languages regularly, as if she already gave Brynden her bed.

_He said I belonged to him_ , she remembers, drawing the wound close to her heart. _He tried to take away my necklace_. Shiera refuses to let her fingers flutter up to her neck where she hides the bruises under a glamour: Aegor is watching them like a hawk. He doesn’t have the luxury of hiding the scratches going down his cheek.

“Dance with me,” she repeats. No smiles, no sweet flourishes, she is here for business, and this is just foreplay, for Aegor’s benefit. Brynden pauses and reaches his hand out to grasp her outstretched one. He doesn’t take his eyes off of her face (a feeling Shiera has grown accustomed to ever since she became a woman) as she leads him to the very center of the dance floor.

_I’ll fuck you a few times until Aegor comes crawling back, begging to let him in again,_ Shiera decides.

“You are the most beautiful woman here,” Brynden says, a hand travelling further and further down her waist.

_Oh? Not as nervous as I thought._

Shiera has a hard time deciding if that means more fun or less fun. But, oh, how Shiera hopes that Aegor is watching them, watching her pull his hated brother closer to her heart, replacing the spot that he thought belonged only to him.

“More so than the bride.”

“I know,” Shiera responds.

“Aren’t you supposed to say thank you modestly?” he laughs, one eyebrow raised.

Shiera can’t look away from his ruby red eyes, even though she has been looking at them for years. “Modesty did not know me when its rules were made,” she offers a wolfish grin in return. “And you are hardly the first to tell me that I am beautiful.” After a few minutes of dancing with her brother, she is certain she can get him into her bed.

Shiera can feel Aegor’s eyes burning into her back.

_Good._

_Watch me, Aegor. Are you jealous yet? I want to feel your jealousy next time you fuck me, I want you to come crawling back, on your knees, with a kingdom in your hands. You will know that I hold your heart in my hand and I will squeeze blood out of it whenever I please._

“Perhaps you will escort me to my chambers,” she asks Brynden after the bedding of Maekar and his wife is over. She catches Aegor’s glowering eyes and sulking figure down the hall and offers a sweet simper to him.

When Brynden catches her weaving a spell the next morning to make the scratches tracing down her breasts disappear (perhaps she was careless and perhaps it was on purpose), she is not apologetic in the least and he does not want her to be. Suddenly Shiera can’t remember why she wanted Aegor back at all.

_I think I’ll keep you._

**Author's Note:**

> The customs for balls are from (iirc) aristocratic Victorian Era England, I'm not sure if this is consistent with ASOIAF.  
> The "kingdom in your hands" quote comes from Catherynne M. Valente's Deathless.  
> Also I realized that the bruises on her chest might imply that Aegor abuses her and, while I really don't want to be part of abuse erasure, I headcanoned that both Shiera and Aegor are violent to each other, violence is their primary method of going about a problem.


End file.
